A Husband of Her Own (Dundee, Idaho #2)(70)
Author: Brenda Novak

“There’s nothing to say,” he told her. “You thought something was going on with me and Mary but it wasn’t what it looked like. That’s all.”

“That’s not all.”

“There’s more?”

Rebecca considered all the questions she’d like to ask. There was that little “our home” comment he’d made, and the way he’d carried her out as though he had a right to do so. But probing for his reasons could possibly lead to a very serious discussion that might not end the way she wanted it to. And it was her birthday. Better to save the serious stuff for another time. “I guess not,” she said.

He grinned and started chopping onions.

“You look smug,” she said.

“I’m just thinking.”

“About what?”

“You.”

“Could you elaborate on that?”

“Everyone’s so afraid of setting you off. They don’t know the real you.”

“But you do.”

“I’m beginning to understand a few things.”

“Like…”

“That spiny front you present to the world protects a very soft heart.”

Rebecca wasn’t pleased that his comment made her feel so vulnerable. “And this assumption is based on the fact that I let you get away with what you did tonight?” she asked, folding her arms and leaning away from the table. “I was just too tired to fight. I could’ve made you let me go if I’d really wanted to.”

He chuckled as he cracked the eggs into a bowl, his fork making scraping sounds as he added some salt and started whisking everything together. “More bluster,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“What?”

He threw her a swift glance. “Nothing.”

“Don’t bait me right now,” she said with a scowl. “I just want to relax.”

“Okay, so tell me about Delaney and Conner’s baby.”

The sizzle of the eggs in the pan, along with the smell of the food, was comforting. It felt good to be sitting in Josh’s kitchen, letting him take care of her.

Rebecca covered a yawn, thought about snuggling up with him and drifting into a contented sleep, and some of the tension in her body eased. “It was wonderful. I’ve never seen anything like it, Josh. At times I laughed, and I cried, and then there were moments when I was so worried about Delaney I thought I’d die. For the first time in weeks I wanted a cigarette. But I stuck it out. And then, after the baby was born and I held her in my arms, so much longing swept through me I could hardly—”

At the stunned look on Josh’s face, Rebecca fell silent.

“What?” she said hesitantly.

“You said ‘longing.”’

Rebecca’s cheeks started to burn. She had said longing. In her excitement, she’d forgotten to downplay certain aspects of what she’d experienced.

“You said when you held the baby, so much longing swept through you that…what?” he prodded.

She tried to think of a way to make what she’d said sound plausible in the context of witnessing Conner and Delaney’s baby being born. But longing wasn’t typically an emotion she’d feel at the birth of someone else’s child—unless she wanted a baby of her own.

“That I couldn’t breathe,” she finished. She’d wanted to take things slow with Josh, learn to trust him before exposing any more of her softer side. But her feelings were too strong and too close to the surface to pretend. And she wasn’t good at it, anyway.

He set the pan on the opposite burner, left his spatula on the counter and came over to squat before her. “So you want a baby, Beck?” he asked, resting his elbows on his knees and looking up into her face.

She nodded. Her heartbeat was thudding through her entire body as she anticipated his response and, for some crazy reason, she felt a rush of tears. Swallowing hard, she blinked them back, but the lump in her throat threatened to choke her. She wanted a baby, all right. She wanted Josh’s baby. Somehow it seemed as though a family with Josh Hill was all she’d ever wanted—even when she’d been pouring bleach on his lawn.

“Can you wait till we get married?” he asked, taking both her hands.

“Married?” she echoed in surprise. “We’ve only been together one day.”

“We’ve known each other practically our whole lives. I don’t need any more time than that. Do you?”

“No.” She definitely needed no more time than it would take to say “I do.”

He pulled her slightly forward and kissed the end of her nose. “So you’ll be my wife?”

Because she didn’t trust her voice, Rebecca nodded, wondering if she was going to wake up in the morning and realize this whole conversation had been a dream. But it felt very real when Josh reached up to wipe away a tear that had gotten stuck in her eyelashes, blurring her vision.

“When do you want to have the wedding?” he asked.

She sniffed. What was wrong with her? She cried probably one-tenth as often as most women. She was Rebecca Wells—proud and tough, with a bad-ass reputation. Granted, her reputation protected her on some occasions and plagued her at others. But with Josh her reputation no longer mattered. He didn’t see her the way other people did. Not anymore.

Maybe that was the reason she was crying. She knew he was looking at the real her—and that he actually liked what he saw.

“I guess there isn’t any reason to let all those cookies go to waste,” she said.

“Cookies?”

Too busy figuring out a date, she didn’t explain. “Is three weeks too soon?”

“Not for me. If you want, we can elope tonight.”

“No way,” she said. “My father’s got to see this.”

WHEN THE TELEPHONE RANG, Rebecca thought it was the buzzer on Hatty’s oven. In her dreams, she kept trying to turn it off, but no matter how many times she twisted the knob, the noise wouldn’t stop. Then, suddenly, silence was restored. She settled herself more comfortably on Josh’s shoulder and was about to sink back into oblivion when a solid knock sounded on the door.

“Josh? Is Rebecca with you?”

It was Mike. Rebecca sat up and shoved a hand through her disheveled hair, then remembered to pull the blankets up to cover herself, in case he decided to enter.

“Yeah, I’m here,” she said.

Their voices finally roused Josh. He stretched and rose to his elbows to squint at Rebecca before scooping her toward him and burying his face in her neck. “What is it?” he mumbled against her skin.